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LAKE GEORGE. 



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i, p. SWEET 



In ev'ry work regard the writer's end, 

Since none can compass more than they intend. 

—Pope. 



Heb) York: 
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR 

1863. 



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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/laKegeorgeOOswee 



LAKE GEORGE. 



BY 






In ev'rj work regard the writer's end, 

Since none can compass more than they intend. 

— Pope. 



-^ 



''oi OF c 



PUBLISHED li V T H I^. AUTHOR. 

1863. 







fS^iS^ 



!hn 



4^ 



Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 
J . P . SWEET, 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, 
for the Southern District of New York. 



2Z ic A 



M. T. TYLEE, 

Printer and Stereotyper, 

No. 44 Ann street. 



PREFACE. 



Dear Reader, now I think I hear the question. 
Why HAS he pen'd in rhyme this little volume ? 

Because, I think amusement aids digestion ; 
And then, if I would witty be, or solemn, 

Or would some serio-comic subject jest on, 
I find it easy in the poet's column ; 

Besides, it gives a ''splendid opportunity" 

To show my rhyming powers to the community. 

The object of a guide-book is to guide. 

To give SOME proper notions of the scenery; 

Whether o'er rail we run, or water glide, 
Are drawn by nag, or beautiful machinery, 

To be "well posted," is the tourist's pride, 

To know the walks thro' !N^ature's rural greenery ; 

To consumate this end, I've scrawl'd on paper, 

A rhyming guide I've pen'd by midnight taper. 

Long may it guide the trav'ler o'er the wave, 
And happiness impart to ev'ry tourist. 

I'd have it read by gentle, wise, and brave. 
The good Samaritan and cunning jurist ; — 

'Twill, doubtless, meet the eye of many a knave. 
As well as those by Nature form'd the purest : — 

•Go, little Hand-Book, may your lines find favor 

With all who glide o'er this pure lake — forever ! 



LAKE GEORGE 



Ho ! for Lake George, the lake of many isles, 

Which lies imbedcd in the northern wilds; 

Its pleasant hanks are known to Hist'ry's page, 

Its cool retreats our present thoughts engage. 

We love to hear Niagara's seething roar; 

We lovo gay Newport, with its sea-beat shore; 

Wo love to climb to Washington's bold brow, 

And view New Hampshire's vales and streams below; 

To mark the line where sky ami ocean meet, 

To hear the thundor roll beneath om- feet ! 

To view, by night, yon azure, starry dome, 

From Freeijom's cliffs, the eagle's craggy home 

We love old Ocean in his wildest mood, 

The city's hum, the forest's solitude : 

Wc love New York, by day-light, or by dark, 

Her gas-lit walks, lier icy Central Park : 

We love old Saratoga's healthy Springs, 

Her fashion, gaiety, and friv'lous things; 

We love the promenade, we love the ball, 

We love the "States," and likewise "Union Hall: " 

We love the hallowed spot which gave us birth, 

Our childhood's home, the sweetest spot on earth! 

And still propose a pleasant trip to make. 

Thro* yon blue hills, to yonder crystal lake. 




6 LAKE GEORGE. 

We've now decided on our route and course ; 

So pack your trunks — T hear the " iron horse ! " 

See, now he comes, with fire like Vulcan's forge ; 

Onward he dashes through the mountain-gorge ; 

He swiftly skims o'er yonder level plain ; 

Now 'round the hill he swings his lengthy train ; 

He's standing in the depot — get your seats, 

All who are seeking for the cool retreats. 

We're moving forward, o'er the rail we fly ; 

Hills, fields, and villages seem sweeping by ! 

The Steam-king shows us, with his magic powers, 

A panorama of this world of ours. 

The whistle screams, the train is moving slow; 

We've reach' d Fort-Edward, or we've reach' d Moreau ; — 

Now for the stage — behold yon champing teams! 

We're boun-l for Hokican's pure air and flashing streams. 

Five miles of road, and we enjoy it well. 

And sit in Caepbnter's " Glens Falls Hotel;" 

We're now refresh'd, and northward start again, 

Hie 'round the hill, and o'er the level plain. 

Now Williams' Monument appears in view ; 

Behold its marble! white, with clouds of blue; 

It marks the spot where gallant Williams fell: 

Its brief inscription will his sad fate tell : 

The French, Dieskau led, he here engaged ; 

And wliile the battle's storm with fu*y raged, 

He fell! a martyr to old England's cause, 

The bold defender of her king, and laws. 

His firm friend, HENDniK, the brave Mohawk chief. 

Fell likewise, here, upon that day of grief: 



LAKE GEORGE. 

That noble chieftain, generous, brave, and just, 
Near where yon clouded column rises bit the dust! 
The battle's din, and war's approaching tramp 
Brought Johnson's ample forces from their camp ; 
And soon Dieskau's hordes moat sharply feel 
The pond'rous poAver of good old English steel ; 
Their mangled slain lay scattered o'er the ground; 
DiESKAU sank beneath a fatal wound. 
Johnson was wounded in this sharp affray ; 
Then LYMAN took command thro'out the day ; 
Yet Johnson — blessed with military tact — 
Sent no word home of Lyman's gallant act! 
When Lyman drew his sword the troops were fired ; 
With high-toned confidence were all inspired ; 
He cheered them on, nor *ear'd to lead the way; 
His skill and bravery secur'd the day. 
The Frenchmen fly in terror and despair ; 
The shout of victory rends the mountain air; 
Lo I Victory comes, each English bosom warms, 
She showers her garlands o'er the British arms ! 
That was the noted "Battle of Lake George;" 
Here Williams perish' d in the mountain-gorge. 
The troops of Johnson — those that did survive — 
Built William Henry that year—" '55." 
The scene now changes, as by magic wand ; — 
We're passing by the lonely "Bloody Pond;" 
Here — in its Avaters, of a crimson red — 
The French and English heaped their mangled dead ! 
The glen now widens as we northward run; 
In two miles more we reach the Horican. 



8 LAKE GEORGE. 

Lo ! now I see it 'round the head-lands bend ; 

Its mountain-walls on either side extend ; 

Now, as we pass its spark'ling mountain-rills, 

See Caldwell's hamlet sleep among its hills. 

Now on the West, and very near the stage, 

You'll see a sand-heap, which is call'd Fort Gage; 

'Tis not a spot where trav'lers much resort, 

It having no appearance of a fort ; 

But, simply, a steep hill of yellow sand, 

With yellow pines upon its highest land. 

We now have rcach'd Lake George's southern bank; 

A hotel here we find of foremost rank, 

Which seems — reposing 'neath the summer skies — 

The tourist's home, the wand'rer's paradise. 

And tho', the winds are hush'd, the gales are dead, 

And not a zephyr fans the mountain's head ; 

The boughs hang lifeless on the lofty pines, 

The glassy lake — a giant mirror! shines ; 

The stagnant brook neglects to turn the mill, 

The gossip's tongue, for want of work, lies still ! — 

Or should tornadoes sweep the mountain bare. 

And hurl huge branches through the groaniug air ; 

Great liquid mountains o'er the lake arise. 

Who's white-capp'd summits mingle with the skies ; 

Celestial torrents swell the mountain streams, 

'Till each small rill a mighty river seems ; 

The Earth's vast sphere see naught but feuds and brawls, 

And gossips' tongues be worn to pegging-awls ; 

Tho' endless calm, or endless storm prevail, 

This stirring mansion is kept still by Gale ! 



LAKE GEOllGE. 

Here now we sec him, with his smiling face, 

And his fair partner, who with queenly grace, 

Does now her blessings on her guests dispense ; 

Which we remember when we go from hence; 

And pray her happiness may ever last ; 

May sorrow's shadow ne'er be o'er her cast. 

May she, as down Life's winding stream she glides, 

Shun rock and bar, and all opposing tides; 

May Hope immortal spread its snow-white sail; 

May she be favor' d by a pleasant gale ! 

Near this bright hall, which rings with jocund sound, 

Stands the French Grave- Yard, and the Battle-ground, 

Where the " dread struggle of contending foes" 

"Swell'd the long list of bitter human woes." 

Along the east of this belov'd resort 

Lies W^iLLTAM Henry's old and ruin'd fort ; 

Its long entrenchments are o'ergrown with pines. 

Which toss their branches in the passing winds. 

And, as we wander there, a magic spell 

Seems ling'ring 'round the trees, and "Old camp-well;" 

And spirits of the long-forgotten dead 

Seem flitting o'er our path-way, as we tread. 

These lovely nooks once echo'd dying groans, 

Here sweet flowers bloom o'er powder'd human bones! 

In ''fifty-seven" the gallant, stern Monroe 

Commanded here, and met the deadly foe. 

Led by Montcalm, whose overwhelming host 

Forc'd a surrender, and the fort was lost. 

On August second, sev'nteen-fifty-sev'nj 

Montcalm agreed, and call'd to witness Heaven! 



10 LAKE GEORGE. 

He sign'd the articles with brave Monroe, 

That all in safety from the fort might go. 

They left the fort; alas! too late they find 

That all his promises are "empty wind!" 

Here the fond mother, and the loving wife, 

Alike, fell victims to the savage knife : 

The helpless innocent, the vet'ran brave. 

Both met their fate, and found a common grave. 

Now let us view Fort George's ruin'd pile; 

It lies south-eastward, nearly a half-mile. 

From where the William Henry's dark outlines, 

Lie shaded 'neath the boughs of sombre pines. 

Its crumbling walls distinctly meet the eye ; 

It tells a story of an age gone-by : 

Tho' now a ruin'd and neglected thing, 

'Tas nam'd from George Second, England's reigning king; 

Grand-sire of George the Third, the stupid chap. 

Who lost a jewel from his kingly cap. 

Our fav'rite hero pluck'd the priceless gem, 

The brightest star ! from George's diadem ; 

Which placed the founder of our Yankee home 

High, on the pinacle of Fame's proud dome! 

French Mountain rises on the eastern side ; 

'Tis five miles long, perhaps, 'tis two miles wide; 

'Tis not remarkable for tow'ring height ; 

May be nine hundred feet, perhaps not quite ; 

But, still, it is an object, here below. 

Of varied int'rest, as the case may go; 

And call'd French Mountain, from the circumstance. 

That men fought ne^r it OMtic, \vho caaie from Fiance. 



LAKE GEORGE. 11 

A few rods east of old Fort George's wall, 

Tou'll see a stream, that people "East Creek" call; 

Brook-trout are plenty in its pearly month, 

And up the creek, a distance to the south. 

The old " West Creek" comes tumbling to the lake, 

Near William Henry's wall, past fern and brake. 

The " Prospect Hill" will next attention chain ; 

See, on the west, it towers above the plain; 

This mountain-peak above the village street 

Is near one thousand seven hundred feet ; 

'Tis often visited by those who love 

To gaze on things below, from things above. 

A sight of beauty from its top is seen ; 

A splendid, grand, .sublime! impressive scene! 

Which fills the mind with wonder and delight; 

Known only to the ones who climb its height, 

To catch a prospect of the world beneath. 

With hearts as buoyant as the air they breathe. 

if^e, on the West Spruce Mountain meets the sight, 

Crown'd with spruce timber, black as endless night! 

While on the east the mountains known as " Green," 

With Camel's Hump and Dorset plainly seen. 

Nearly due-east, toward the rising sun. 

We see the noted peak of Killington ; 

And farther south, along that giant wall, 

Behold the summit of the " Saddle" tall ! 

In Massachusetts it is situate; 

The alpine Monarch of the " Old Bay State." 

And as you.'re gazing with enraptured eye. 

The mind reverts to scenes and days gone by ; 



12 LAKE GEORGE. 

When noble Allen, Staiik, and " Put " were seen, 

Near yonder peaks, and mountain-slopes so green, 

Tlieir armies heading, to confront the band 

That dared invade their own Gree^'-Mountain land ! 

North- West Crane Mountain's broad, notch'd top is seen; 

Once thought the highest of the "Old Thirteen;" 

But subsequent survey reveals the fact, 

That full three thousand English feet it lack'd ; 

Which goes to prove that in the ages past, 

Our daddies didn't travel very fast ; 

Or, if they did, not being deeply book'd, 

Judged of an object from the way it '' look'd ; " 

And yet, this peak — it cannot be denied — 

Is full three thousand feet above the tide. 

Far south the rounded Catskills meet the view; 

Whose azure tint excels the sky's rich blue ! 

Due north the lofty Adirondacs rise; 

Their serried summits pierce the Polar skies! 

The old " Snake Gobble" is beneath our feet ; 

Where venom'd serpents give a sure " dead beat." 

Now let us to the plains again descend. 

And lodge with Gale, our worthy host and friend ; 

Once more to his bright parlor let us go ; 

There let us *' trip on light, fantastic toe." 

The dance is o'er, we to our rooms repair, 

To dream of music! and sweet mountain-air! ! 

The morn has broke, and Sol's resplendent beam 

Lights up the hills, and sparkles on each stream. 

ril now arise, and list to sylvan sounds, 

And take a stroll o'er William Henry's grounds ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 13 

Shall not forget, that all are apt to wish, 
When at " The Lake," to break their fast on fish. 
The bell has rung, we're summon' d to the hall. 
Where all assemble, both the short and tall. 
Here epicures can find their fav'rite meal ; 
The speckled trout, the " swago" bass, and eel, 
Which in the waters of Lake George abound, 
And " rise a prey " to all who know the " ground." 
We've broke our fast, now bid our host farewell ; — 
The boat has steam'd, and rung her second bell; 
We'll mount her decks, and northT\;ard start again. 
To view tlie finest lake on Earth's domain ! 
Dear tourist, join our joyous band to-day ; 
We go where " Minnie " flings the foam and spray ; 
To make a trip adown this lovely sheet. 
And note with care the pleasant things w^e meet. 
First : on the left the Lake-House proudly stands ; 
Near, opposite, the " States " a view commands, 
That's unsurpass'd on Horican's bright shore, 
For there you see full sixteen miles, or more, 
Down, down the lake, among the tiny isles. 
Where Nature wears her brightest, blandest smiles ; 
And where the Horican, so lone and wild. 
Lies cradled in the mountains, like a child ! 
Where fairy isles lie scatter' d o'er its face, 
Where sombre forests wrap the mountain's base, 
Where cooling breezes thro' the pine trees roar. 
And brooks meander to the pebbly shore. 
Where mountains lift their stony foreheads high. 
Like giant spectres on the azure sky. 



14 LAKE GEORGE. 

Arouse, dear reLider, from your pleasing trance ; 

Again o'er His'trv's page we'll take a glance, 

To that bright day, when o'er this liquid plain. 

One thousand boats bore sixteen thousand men. 

Brave Abercrombie then had full command 

Of all the British troops in this fair land; 

And of the number which above I've told. 

He form'd a crew of " raws '• and vet'rans bold. 

He'd large fleld-gnns, and ev'ry needed store, 

With all the dread appliances of war, 

For, near where Horiq^an's bright waters fall, 

He thought to storm the proud Carillon's wall. 

A wild, unbroken forest spread around ! 

Where naught appear' d to break the gloom profound ; 

And those brave warriors — eager for the strife — 

Beheld no object indicating life. 

Save where the smoke, a graceful column ! winds 

From some rude wigwam 'neath the forest pines. 

With that large fleet, and its impatient crew, 

He left these shores, yet bathed in morning dew ; 

They pass'd these isles, and frowning headlands by ; 

The day was bright, a clear, unbroken sky ! 

The placid lake, unruffled by a breath, 

Bore on its bosom that array of death ! 

Beneatli the beams of Day's effulgent god 

These wood-land slopes, and lofty mountains glow'd. 

The sturdy warriors plied the pond'rous oars ; 

The echoes murmur' d from the sylvan shores; 

Hope swell'd each breast, and beam'd in ev'ry eye ; 

They thought that their triumphant hour was nigh ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 

" Their ensigns glitter'd in the morning sun," 

And martial strains swell'd o'er the Home an. 

Upon the west a large mill-stream is seen ; 

It runs thro' gorge, thro' vale, and meadow green ; 

Its crystal waters from the hills come down, 

And drive the largest tannery in town ; 

And near that shop, where boiling waters spout, 

A grist-mill plays^ that's very near " play'd out." 

The little isle, which on our left you see. 

Is where the people sometimes take their tea ; 

It lies " convenient," and is reach'd quite quick. 

Has been the scene of many a gay picnic ; 

And often in its cooling, shady bowers. 

Fond lovers pass the fleeting summer hours. 

Old settlers say, that on this little isle 

Old Abercrombie one time hid a " pile " 

Of gold and silver ! in a chest, or pot, 

Altho' this money has been never got ; 

Yet, some have tried the treasure to exhume. 

And found blank disappointment — I presume. 

A little party once, upon this spot. 

Thought they would dig for this long-hidden pot ; 

So, here they came, with crowbar, pick, and shovel. 

To dig for money in the stones and gravel. 

Of superstition they had never known ; 

At least, this feeling they would never own ; 

And so, they came, exempt from childish fear 

Of any thing molesting of them here. 

Before commencing — though — they took a glance 

Along the shore, and o'er the clear expanse, 



16 LAKE GEORGE. 

To see that no intruder should molest. 

While they were digging for the pot — or chest. 

The shore was clear, and not a skiff, or boat, 

Upon the tranquil lake was seen to float ; 

The " coast was clear," and ev'ry thing in order ; 

They then struck down upon this isle's east border. 

As th«y began their shoveling, and spading. 

They saw a boat ! 'twas tow'rd Tea Island heading ! 

They drop' d their tools, they ''coudn't see" the dirt; 

They'd seen a spirit! with a " checker' d" shirt; 

With elevated hair, they told each other : 

That " this might be old Abercrombie's brother ! " 

The " Man and Boat " then quickly disappear' d ; 

They knew not where this " checker'd ghost " had steer'd; 

They view'd the lake, they scan'd the island's shore ; 

But " Man and Boat," they say, they saw no more. 

They travel'd homeward with expanded eyes, 

And dtop'd for ever this poor exterprise. 

Now, as we sweep the pleasant shore along, 

Attention give to my descriptive song. 

And all of int'rest J will tell thee o'er, 

On plain, and mountain, and on rocky shore. 

See, on yon cliff, in younder grove of pines, 

The cot of Elder Tuttle darkly shines ; 

While down the rocks, in yonder crystal bay, 

His tiny shallops, safely anchor' d, stay ; 

And all looks sombre ! lone, and void of glee, 

As monk or hermit could e'er wish to be : 

And wears an aspect quite as full of gloom, 

As ancient convent, or Egyptian tomb. 



LAKE GEORGE. 17 

We DOW will leave the Elder in his nook, 

And at O'Conor's Mansion take a look ; 

Conspicuous on the eastern bank it stands, 

And of the lake a pleasant view commands. 

O'CoNOR? yes, O'Conor is his name. 

Or intellectual "Charley" — all the same; — 

He plead for persecuted " Miss Sinclair," 

And made th*e friends of tragic Edwin stare ! 

Now run your eye along the eastern shore, 

You'll see Plum Point, 'tis lying " just next door ; " 

You'll ask me, doubtless, why they call it so ? 

ril answer : plums upon surface grow. 

The lake now widens as we plough the way : 

Just east you'll see a sheet, call'd Dunham's Bay ; 

It's name was taken from a man who built 

A sloop upon its waters ; — 't was not gilt, 

But roughly form'd, not mo del' d to run quick, 

And boated lumber from Old Dunham's Creek. 

Now cast your eye along yon level plain. 

See verdant meads, and fields of waving grain ; 

'Tis Harrisena's pleasant, fertile vale, 

"Where of good cheer the people never fail. 

" There honest labor crowns the festive board ; " 

They've cellars fill'd and granaries well stored ; 

They envy not not the owner of the mine ; 

They raise fat cattle, and extensive swine ; 

And thus they pass the years which make up life, 

The honest farmer, and his frugal wife. 

Prince Cramer next, especial notice claims, 

Of ev'ry tourist who at beauty aims ; 



18 LAKE GEORGE. 

His fine location, wrought by Nature's hand, 

By, him improved! quite beautiful, and grand; 

The Avhole is elegant, superb, and chaste ; 

All passers-by admire him for his taste. 

The Cramer Point, and Cramer's little Bay. 

Lie near his farm, and westward of our way ; 

The Still Bay Point, and Still Bay both appear^ 

Upon the north of these, and very near. 

The MiNNE-HA-HA now has three miles run. 

Now turn your eye toward the rising sun. 

See Diamond Island on our starboard beam ; 

If Sol now shines, she's in his blazing beam ; 

But, if behind the curtain Sol has strayed ? 

Why, then old Diamond Island's in the shade. 

When war-like passions fill'd the breasts of men, — 

When did they not ? when will they not again ? — 

Then John Burgoynb, historians have said 

A military depot of this island made. 

His sturdy soldiers on its banks have stood, 

While resting from their labors on the flood ; 

They dream'd of Death ! with legal murder fired ; — 

In ««'77" we're told this all transpired. 

The passions dire that fill'd each manly breast. 

Now sleep in death, '« and they have found their, rest ;" 

And, tho' this island peers above the waves, 

Those brawny yrarriors sleep within their graves. 

Reflect one moment on the ways of Man ; 

See how he'll toil, and delve, and scheme, and plan 

And rack his brain to gain his selfish ends, 

While all who give a "boost" he treats as friends; 



LAKE GEOHGE. 19 

And those whose efforts do not fill his purse, 

He treats with nothing milder than a curse ! 

In ev'ry age his sharp, ingenious mind 

Has wrought inventions to destroy his kind ; 

To aid grim Death ! to augment human woe. 

As if Death's "forward march" seem'd quite too slow. 

Oh, puny Man ! Ambition's fav'rite tool. 

Are you an angel ? or are you a fool ? 

Were you an angel, I would say so be it ; 

You may be su(^i — I certainly " don't see it : " 

The fogs of error 'round your path are hurl'd, 

And Ignorance with Pride now rules the World ! 

We'll leave this sad, unpleasant subject now. 

And take a peep o'er Minnie's larboard bow ; 

A pleasant bay the trav'ler there will see ; 

It took its classic name from " Old Bizzee ; " 

Who lived upon its shore in days of old : — 

His wife was noted for an old Dutch scold ; 

His daughter, " Poll," an ignorant Dutch girl, 

Ne'er knew the use of cotton, rouge, or curl ; 

Contented in her home-spun garb to shine, 

Thought not of stays, nor knew of crinoline ; 

Yet, thought to gain Heav'n on that simple plan, 

As safe as saint, " or any other man." 

The Cannon Point lies near our destin'd way; 

Just on the north of this, the last-named bay. 

From " Old Phil. Cannon " it derived its name ; 

Who had five children^ and a simple dame. 

She " had no thought beyond her native vale; " 

Knew not a comet's from a horse's tail ! 



20 • LAKE GEORGE. 

Was never known to turn a curious eye 

To yon bright worlcl-gems in the evening sky ; 

Had " nary " talent for enquiring deep, 

And felt contented when good snuff was cheap. 

Around the point we find the Cannon bay — 

See that dark object with its surface grey ; 

Projecting from the water like a block. 

And known to all the boatmen as Reed's rock : 

And call'd so from the simple fact, they say, 

Of " Old Reed's" fishing on the rock and bay. 

The Diamond Point lies farther to the north ; 

'Tis known for diamonds of a mod'rate worth; 

And still, to get them many soil the shirt. 

By pawing 'round among the stones and dirt ; 

And then, go home with aching back and bones, 

With pockets fill'd with dirty, worthless stones. 

On Samson's Bay the searching eye will rest, 

Near Diamond Point, a distance to the west: 

Some forty years ago, as I believe. 

Old Samson Paul upon its shore did live. 

Domestic Indian, with a tawny skin, 

Who played quite sweetly on the violin ; 

He fish'd, he hunted, he enjoy'd this life, 

Some times made baskets with his pale-faced wife ; 

He lived in happiness and Indian pomp, 

Unquestion'd monarch of the " Cedar Swamp." 

Near forty years ago, as settlers tell, 

These mountains echo'd to a savage yell ; 

To his dark shore his neighbors did repair. 

And found old Samson with up-risen hair! 



LMCE GEORGE. 21 

He shook with agitation, doubt, and fear; 

He held a panther with his fishing-spear ; 

Exerting all his force, his life to save, 

He held the cougar plung'd beneath the wave; 

And thus he held it 'till its life was o'er, 

Then haul'd its carcass on the lonely shore; 

He flay'd the beast, the hide exchanged for "tin;" — 

In the Museum it may now be seen, 

With cringing attitude, denoting fear, 

At Samson, standing with up-lifted spear. 

Of Smith Brook now a little note we'll make ; 

Just north of Samson's Bay it finds the lake; 

Its crystal waters down the mountain spout, 

Its mouth is noted for the autumn trout ; 

It took its name from Smith ! Smith's farm now stands 

Its fountain near upon the table-lands; 

Smith Mountain on the west is p'ainly seen; 

Its broad, round summit crown' d with ever-green. 

Smith is a name that's very often seen, 

And very often heard w^here I have been; 

'Tis found in " York " with John prefix' d, they say- — 

The water on our west is call'd Smith's Bay. 

Now raise your optics from from this humble book, 

And east of Diamond Island take a look ; 

You'll see two isles, some larger than two bricks ; 

Named by your humble servant, call'd " Old Dick's." 

Upon our east, just o'er the starboard bow, 

Tiiree little islands chain our thoughts just now; 

The Sisters call'd ; by some — I don't know why ; 

Call'd Sev'n mile isles for many years gone by. 



22 LAKE GEORGE. 

Long Island is the next, which I'll describe; 

Beyond the sisters, on their eastern side : 

Not known for beauty, has no noted charm, 

Yet, on its surface has an ample farm ; 

Where stalwart farmers toil, and dig for gold, 

By raising corn and "punkins," I am told. 

Of all the isles, you see the largest one 

That decks the surface of the Horican. 

Along this isle Montcalm his batteaux moor'd, 

Before the brave Monroe he overpowered. 

A narrow channel, at its southern end, 

Runs 'round Long Point, then takes a sudden bend ; 

'Till at the eastward, o'er its waters clear. 

The Grassy Point and Harris Bay appear. 

North-east of these, upon the pleasant shore. 

Near where the lofty, wood-crown'd mountains soar. 

The trav'ler sees a neat, but small hotel; 

'Tis kept by Cronkhite, who will feed you well. 

Its top is wood, the basement bricks and mortar. 

With fish exhaustless in its neighb'ring water. 

Toward the west your eyes I now invite; 

A farm and orchard will appear in sight; — 

We're just five miles from William Henry dock — 

Judge Edmonds owns this pleasant farm and stock. 

The Harris Brook runs through the Judge's farm; 

Brook" trout are plenty in its waters warm; 

It takes its rise in yonder distant hill; 

In days long-past it turned a little mil]. 

Time has swept on! the mill has passed away; 

A victim to a slow but sure decay ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 23 

And on the spot where once it firmly stood, 

We find a mass of black and rotten wood. 

This should to Man's proud mind reflection bring, 

To guide his footsteps, an essential thing ; 

To strike the "animal" with moral force. 

And keep the reason in a proper course. 

Oh! many, many who this mill have known. 

Have left this world, to unknown regions gone ; 

They've ceased to live upon this shining sphere ; 

And gone! yes, gone! can any one tell where? — 

Rear your proud temples, build however high, 

They'll fall and fade, and pass from memory : 

Yes, all that live, approaching death shall still! 

'Till we lie numbered with the "Harris Mill;" 

Therefore, in life, be careful whom you spurn ; 

And don't be proud of gold which you don't earn. 

I now inform you: we are passing by 

The widest place between the "Head" and "Ti." 

The distance here is near three English miles, 

From shore to shore, if measured through the isles. 

A range of mountains, on the .east, you spy : 

Which, since " Creation's dawn " has got quite high ; 

A thing not very strange, we're apt to think, 

For those who range so near such pleasant drink. 

This chain extends through these romantic wilds, 

iln plain round numbers, four-and- thirty miles ; 

It takes its rise in Harrisena's plain. 

And ends in Mount Defiance, Lake Champlain. 

It' 3 southern peak is Pilot Mountain called ; 

Ai d then, Finch Mountain,^^ with its summit bald, 



24 LAKE GEORGE. 

Or nearly so, as you can plainly see, 

With barren rocks, and now and then a tree. 

Those first two peaks a double figure make, 

Near nineteen hundred feet above the lake. 

Deer Pasture, next, adorns this noble chain; 

It stands two thousand feet above the plain; 

And in the autumn of each rolling year, 

It makes a pasture for the fallow deer. 

" Sam " Phelps, who lives quite near this mountain base, 

Has had with many a buck a lively chase. 

A large mill stream is running through yon gorge, 

Of ample size for flouring-mill, or forge. 

Now turn your eyes toward the smiling West ; 

In brightest green its hills and fields are dressed. 

Near seven miles we've run upon our way, 

And on the larboard beam we find Boon Bay : 

It took its name from Boon, as records show. 

Who here resided many years ago. 

The little island, which you plainly see. 

Is called Rush Island, oftener " One Tree :" 

It joined the point in some far-by-gone day ; 

The action of the water wore away, 

Until the process did an island form, 

Which still diminishes in ev'ry storm ; 

And I opine that in some coming year. 

From mortal eyes this isle will disappear ; 

The Horican's clear waves will o'er it roar, 

And One-Tree Island "Sink to rise no more !" 

A million years or more, it may endure, 

Which toeV'es its disappearance no less sure. 



LAKE GEORGE. 25 

Good fishing-ground is found near One-Tree Isle ; 

Just on its south — 't would make a Walton smile. 

Grove Point, from which this isle was worn away, 

Lies on our west, and eastward of Boon Bay ; 

Primeval hemlocks tower abov© its plain ; 

The axe has ne'er disturbed their sombre reign. 

A grove above its level plain ascends, 

Which spans its width, to either shore extends: 

A bower like this, beside, I've never seen; 

A perfect block of pure, unspotted green. 

Year after year, the small, decaying boughs 

Have dropped, as noiseless as the evening dews, 

And spread a carpet for the wand'rer's feet. 

Who's aching soles oft tread the busy street. 

'Tis ever-green, of Norway pines 't is grown; — 

I call this matchless grove Diana's Throne ! 

We 'repassing now " Old Hoxie's Middle-Ground," 

Where salmon trout are in abundance found. 

Should skies be clear, and atmosphere serene. 

North-east a faint blue speck may now be seen ; 

Which might well pass among this mountain crowd. 

With careless, lookers, for a small blue cloud. 

But, sharper scrutiny will tell the mind. 

That 't is a mountain peak, far, far behind 

The Lake-George Mountans, over which it peers. 

And, doubtless, will through countless coming years, 

To smile upon the trav'ler through this glen. 

To " make its mark :" «^to be observed of men." 

'Tis Mansfield Mountain, monarch of the chain 

Known as Geeen Mountains, east of Lake Champlain; 



26 LAKE GEORGE 

And, tho' it seems a speck upon the eye, 

It's granite spire '' invades the vaulted sky ;" 

And were you near that lofty mountain's base. 

You'd see his strong resemblance to a face ; 

With energetic 1' Chin," with "Brow," and " Nose * — 

The " Chin" stands nearest to eternal snows. 

lie holds that haughty head in proud disdain, 

Four thousand and three hundred from Champlain ; 

Beneath that furraw'd face, in valleys deep. 

Sweet Yankee girls abound, and fine-wool'd sheep> 

Now westward look, around yon woody cape. 

You'll see a bay, called Basin, from its shape ; 

'Tis nearly round, and yet, to tell the truth, 

Is somewhat oval, longest north and south. 

A point of land will on our beam appear. 

Called Fenton's Point by all, for many a year. 

Three little islands now stick up like blisters; 

They're call'd Three Brothers, yet, they may be sisters. 

The Reynolds Point to Fenton's Point is joined — 

The waters of North Bay lie back, behind ; 

A large mill-brook, through mountain gorge and mead, 

To Lake George murmurs, at the North Bay's head 

Clay Island next, which here a point may seem, 

And yet, you see a channel, like a stream. 

Between Clay Island and the Reynolds Point ; 

Which makes you think of something out of joiut ; 

And, tho' you see a channel 'tween them run, 

Time was when they essentially were one. 

Th-3 Picnic Island lies just east of Clay ; 

And east of this, Parodi, near our way ; — 



LAKE GEORGE. 27 

I have no fear of your mistaking them, 

For Picnic Island is a perfect gem ! 

Parodi joii can never fail to see, 

For on the west it has an old dry tree. 

Which, like some drmikard holding up a wall, 

Has took to leaning, and will some day fall. 

We 're now nine miles from Minne-ha-ha's home. 

Yon isle of symmetry is called the Dome. 

Of all the isles it does the highest peer 

Above the Hobican's bright waters, clear ; 

It stands one hundred feet above the wave. 

And bears resemblance to a giant's grave ! 

Look where you will, on Earth's extended ground, 

Is there a more romantic spot than found ? 

Here little knolls, and higher hills arise, 

And lofty mountains, tow'ring to the skies ! 

The lake, the mountains, and the forest green, 

Combine their splendors in this matchless scene ; 

A concentration of rich scenic worth. 

The focal beauty of the planet, Earth. 

We now have reached Mohican's pleasant pier. 

Where Captain Wilson holds forth every year ; 

Yes, ev'ry month, and week, and live long day, 

" He'll entertain you for a moderate pay ;" 

He'll show you all the sights around here, " seeable," 

"And do his best to make your stay agreeable." 

His fine game dinners, with his bass and trout. 

Are unsurpassed upon this northern route ; 

And when you leave him, you will shout and sing. 

That " Old Mohican " should be styled « Big Thing !" ^ 

/ 
/ 



28 LAKE GEORGE. 

Reluctantly we leave this lovely scene ; — 

We soon shall pass the island known as Green 5 

Second in size upon Lake George's sheet ; 

It has a farm upon its surface neat. 

Buchanan Henry owns this island stock, 

Late private sec. to James, tlie "no-hornod" "Buck." 

You'll see an island, as we northward jog, 

Altho' called Sanford's, it was once called Hog ; 

But thinking Hog might give the Jews offence, 

We've called the island Sanford's ever since. 

Now westward look, behold yon rocky dome ; 

A proud colossus in its mountain home ; 

Sometimes the Norman Nopit is its name ; 

Yet called Cat Mountain, from the feline game 

Which once inhabited its woody base ; 

Long since departed for some other place, 

To squall, to hiss, to roll their balls of fire ! 

To make Gat Mountain of some other spire. 

Just south of this, above a sylvan dell, 

You'll see a mountain, called the Pinnacle, 

Where tourists in the summer often go. 

To get a prospect of the scene below. 

West of due North, the Nopit Hill is seen. 

With sides precipitous, yet summit green. 

Near, on the Nopit's east, you see Pole Hill ; — 

Between them runs a stream, which drives the mill ; 

It finds the lake, by cascade, wind, and crook. 

And beara the title of the Indian Brook. 

The largest stream that Horican can boast. 

Comes winding through yon valley to the coast ; 



LAKE GEOllOE. 29 

'Tis called North-West-Bay Creek, by ev'ry one ; 

The largest inlet of the Horican. 

The North-West Bay lies northward, full in sight: 

You'll see Tongue Mountain, tow'ring, on its right. 

The All-Seeing Eye has looked, since Earth was young, 

On this old promontory, mountain- tongue ; 

At this late period, when Earth is old, 

I find you gazing on its outline bold ; 

Its lonely cliflfe, its lofty peaks sublime ! 

Conspicuous letters on the page of Time ; 

To all great minds that feel inclined to probe 

The granite crust of this terraqueous globe. 

This tongue addresses the poetic ear. 

In language grand, and eminently clear ; 

To me it speaks, in no weak, human sense, 

'But in the language of Omnipotence ! 

The neighb'ring hills in reverence seem to nod 

To Nature's eloquence, the voice of God ! ! ! 

See yon proud Eagle, gazing at the sun, 

Our country's emblem, "Bird of Washington! " 

Above the wave, in majesty she lifts. 

And plants her eyrie in the dizzy cliffs; 

And rears her young, in elevation grand. 

To shun the blighting touch of mortal hand. 

Quite near the eastern shore, the trav'ler sees 

A group of islands, covered o'er with trees ; 

That little group is H*en-and-Chickens called; 

•Not that 't has ever cackled, clucked, or squalled, 

And yet, resembles, in its wat'ry nest, 

A state4y hen, with chickabiddies blest. 



30 LAKE GEORGE. 

A mill-stream roars thro' yonder woody glen, 

And finds the lake, just eastward of the '« Hen." 

Just north of this, you'll see an island stand, 

With a white mansion on its rocky strand ; 

A public house, by Mr. Fuller kept, 

And many a hunter has within it slept : 

'T is kept for sportsmen, summer, spring and fall, — 

When you can do so, give our friend a call ; 

A meal of bass or trout you're sure to find, 

With all the «« fixings " to a hunter's mind. 

Fourteen-mile Island is the present name 

Of this fine spot for " splendid " fish and game. 

We land there often ; you will see the dock — 

Just east of this you see the Shelving Kock ; 

Its frowning wail, and overhanging shelf. 

Without description, you will see, yourself. 

Quite near our channel, on the west, we see 

The Turtle Isle, and south of this, the Flea ; 

And near these islands, as we northward run. 

We reach the " Narrows " of the Horican : 

The little isles are strewn on ev'ry side : 

Bright gems of verdure ! on the crystal tide. 

Now view with care Tongue Mountain's eastern face, 

You'll see, where rocks seem newly reft, a place ; 

Above this spot, within a recess dark. 

Two snow-white figures peer from out the murk. 

Unchanged by Summer's heat, or Winter's breath, 

They well epitomize the world beneath. 

One stands erect., like marble statue, cold. 

His comrade bends, like some one diggino; gold: 



LAKE GEORGE. 31 

One seems a lord, the other seems a slave — 

Within the " Mine," far, far above the wave, 

Beneath the cliif, for many, many years, 

I've seen these strange, these lonely mountaineers. 

We 're sweeping thro' the " Narrow Channel " now : 

The " As-You-Were " lies over Minnie's bow. 

One bright, clear morning in the autumn mild, 

A brave old hunter thro' this glen, so wild, 

Saw on this isle a large, and splendid deer ; 

His gun was ready, and his game was near. 

A martial hero he had one day been. 

And used the phrases of the " soger " men ; 

His gun was level'd, he had taken aim ; 

His nerves were steady, and quite sure his game. 

The deer tlien moved, the hunter gave a stare ! 

Pulled, missed his fire, then sung out, "As you were ! " 

The frighten' d deer, tho' trembling, kept his place ! 

Again the hunter's rifle reached his face ; 
The bullet whistled, and the wild deer fell, 
With wild delight, the hunter gave a yell ; 
Thus ends this simple story — all that I can tell. 

Two lofty mountains on our west appear ; 

Along their sides oft roams the timid deer. 

The southern peak is Eagle Mountain named, ' 

And for those birds has long been justly famed. 

Its barren rocks and winter-grass, so dry. 

Are view'd in contrast with the azure sky. 

Sweet's Mountain next, with summit spreading wide, 

Stands near the last-nam'd Mountain's northern side; 



3^ LAKE GEORGE, 

It seems to woo the constellated sky: 

My beau-ideal of sublimity ! 

A point of sterile land will now appeal. 

O'er Minnie's larboard bow, and very near ; 

'Tis called French Point — we now are fifteen miles 

From William Henry, and the lonely wilds 

Of middle Horican are now in view ; — 

" The scene is changing, and is ever new.*' 

For meditation deep, and pensive thought, 

On this small planet there's no better spot. 

We 're here shut out from all the world of sin. 

And by tall mountains we are all shut in ; 

Primeval grandeur holds its reign supreme ! 

On hoary mountain, and on limpid stream. 

The Dollar Isle will on the west appear 5 

A line location, it is said, for deer : 

The nimble fallow with the cloven toe, 

And not dear woman, I would have you know ; 

For if in this rough region, round about, 

The last abounds, I have not found it out : 

Their welcome smiles are very seldom seen ; 

" Like angel-visits, few, and far between." 

Mount Erebus now rises on the right. 

It took thig title from its hue of night. 

Just north Black Mountain rears his giant form, 

In stern defiance to the sweeping storm ; 

In solemn grandeur lifts his granite peak 

Two thousand and two hundred from the lake ; 

And oft you see him in a misty shroud, 

His iron shoulders mantled with a cloud. 



LAKE GEORGE. 33 

When Sol first leaves his briny ocean bed, 

He crowns with gold the lofty mountain's head ; 

He gilds the regions of eternal snow, 

While many a vale in shadow lies below. 

While peaks on peaks stand waiting for his fires, 

He crowns the monarch of the Lake George spires ; 

Around his brow Sol's fading splendors play, 

To bid the scene farewell ! at parting day. 

We 're ten-and-seven miles upon the way: — 

See Half-way Isle, it lies in Half-way Bay. 

Its convex form you'll readily perceive; 

There's moss upon its surface, I believe ; 

'T is on our west, and near the mountain's foot — 

That is Tongue Mountain — we are near its root. 

If you'd a poniard that would thro' it reach, 

You'd strike North-west Bay on its northern beach. 

Hague Mountain joins the "Tongue," and northward 

'T is famed for bruins and for rattle-snakes ; [makes ; 

A rock-ribb'd district on Creation's skirt. 

Five hundred stones to, just about, one dirt ! 

Now, as we northward thro' the waters plough, 

A group of islands o'er our starboad bow, 

By slight attention, you will plainly see ; 

Caird Floating Battery Isles by Larabee : 

Which man perhaps the reader did not know ? 

A steamboat captain here, some time ago. 

Years, years have vanished since he plough'd the wave ; 

His form now moulders in the peaceful grave ; 

His spirit roams in yonder blest abode, 

In contemplation of its maker — God! 



84 ' LAKE GEORGE. 

Compell'd no moro in this dark world to grope, 

Has found eternal light I fondly hope. 

Quite near the northern Floating-Batt'ry Isle, 

The Harbor Island ■ on the waters smile ; 

The tiny inlets 'round their pleasant forms 

Make harbors for the fishermen, in storms. 

You'll see an island near the western shore; 

'T is caird Watch Island, and in years before. 

The hunter watch'd here for the bounding deer, 

In smiling Summer, and in Autumn sere. 

When chased by blood-hounds down the mountain-side, 

He sought a refuge in the crystal tide; 

And never dream' d of that swift, whistling ball. 

Which ultimately '' robb'd him of his all;" 

And on his pate was such a '-spirit knocker," 

It sent him straight to " Davy Jones's Locker.** 

The Vicar's Island is the next you'll spy; 

Just north of Harbor Islands see it lie; 

T wasnam'd from Vicar, who upon it died. 

One summer night, in crossing this clear tide. 

The trees upon this isle are e\^r green — 

Upon its northern side a comic scene 

Transpired, 'tis said, near tiiirty years ago : 

The lake was "glare," the hills were robed in snow; 

In short, 'twas winter, and his hoary locks 

Were on the hills, and glistened on the rocksi 

Abput that time, a man of sporting merit, 

Who frequently imbibed the " evil spirit," 

Conceived an idea that he'd take a sail — 

Old Bor'as piped a fierce and driving gale ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 35 

He said, «' I calculate that my blue cutter 

Will sail upon this ice as slick as butter. 

The wind is fair, and ere this gale is still, 

I'll be in Bolton, with mj' grist to mill. 

Of my old pitch-fork I will make a rudder, 

And should it blow too strong, why ! then I'll scud 'er*' 

With bags of wheat, as well as corn and rye. 

He fill'd the cutter, and he pil'd it high ; 

He grasp'd the pitch-fork in his strong right fist, 

Then said, "To Bolton I will take this grist." 

Just off the shore of noted "Sabbath Day," 

He hoisted sail and soon got under way ; 

Then " Captain Patchen," with his '' Arctic steed," 

Plew o'er the lake with locomotive speed ! 

When that blue ship to Vicar's Isle was near, 

A " screw got loose " within the steering-gear ; 

And he could see, by her peculiar heading, 

That with the island she'd soon have a wedding* 

Uh strove for life, with all his might and main, 

To keep her off, " but all his strife was vain ;" 

She struck the island with an awful crash, 

The '' cutter " went to " everlasting smash ! " 

His bags of rye around the rocks were strewn ; 

His corn and wheat were on the island sown ; 

Old Patchen swore by all the Heathen gods, 

And on the island lit about three rods! 

And, but for snow, as soft as old ice-cream. 

Could not have lit much short of " Jordan's Stream ;" 

And, tho' that noted stream is rather wide. 

Most likely would have lit on " t'other side." 



36 LAKE GEORGE. 

He soon arose, and in an awful splutter, 

He view'd the fragments of the old blue cutter ; 

He then exclaimed, " This is a horrid rumpus ! 

I wonder how I come to leave my compass ? 

With that to guide, I might have 'scaped this founder, 

And not have been laid out as flat a flounder ; 

See where my cutter has the snow been ploughing, — 

A time most inappropriate for sowing ! 

I 've had a ride — for what ? my shins to batter : 

I 've dump'd my provender — 'that's what's the matter ! ' " 

He hobbled home, his batter' d shins were aching. 

And his poor back was very " nigh to breaking ;'^ 

He told his friends that his phisique was failiiig, 

From slight contusions he'd receiv'd while sailing. 

One friend remark'd, "If you have took to dropping? 

You were not hurt while sailing, but when stopping ;" 

Then Patchen gave a nod, with solemn suavity. 

And for this once, 't is said, maintained his gravity. 

He left his friends in silent meditation, 

And sought his pillow for recuperatian. 

When morning came, each deep, inflamed incision 

Cured all his friends of their absurd derision. 

Now, some will laugh, and some will cry about it, 

While others read this story, and then doubt it ! 

But, when you «' bark" your shins, and feel like " scratchin' ; * 

You '11 doubtless heave a sigh, and think of Patc/ien. 

Upon the western shore a frowning steep 

Stands high above the wave : 't is called Deer's Leap. 

Presents an aspect to the eye sublime. 

Like some old castle of an Eastern clime; 



LAlvE GEORGE. 3^ 

And throws an echo from its iron walls, 
Which on the ear with great distinctness falls. 
Two hunters once, when blessed with " tip-top luck," 
Drove to its brow a stately forest buck: 
His foes drew near, he'd little time to think; 
He paused a moment on the awful brink ; 
He gazed below, black terror filled his mind ! 
He heard the eager hounds bark close behind ; 
He gave a bound, in hopes to reach the " sea," 
But struck far short, and " strung upon a tree ! " 
His swimming eyes, in sudden death, grew dim ; 
And thus, suspended to a lofty limb, 
He hung for weeks, and ev'ry passer-by 
Said, «* Deer has fell, and yet 't is famine high." 
The fallow's foes approach'd the mountain's brink, 
The foremost said, " The deer has leap'd, I think ;" 
At which the hindmost said, with doubtful mind, 
" I think we've left the pesky deer behind." 
The leader stood upon the mountain's brow. 
And cast a searching glance far, far below ; 
He then exclaimed, " I see the frighten'd cuss ! " 
He's still tip-top, but not tip-top for us." 
Those small, dark rocks around its lonely base. 
For rattle-snakes afford a hidiug-place ; 
Where cords of reptiles lie, secure from harm, 
The sole proprietors of that rough farm. 
The Sleeping Elephant, that noted beast, 
Lies near Black Mountain, and upon our east ; 
I'll now describe him, or at least endeavor, 
Yet not with a description very clever. 



38 LAKE GEORGE. 

Directed south, his lafty head you'll spy ; 

Then down a ridge, a cave, which forms his eye ; 

Imagination now must form his trunk — 

Then northward look along the mountain " chunk ; " 

The top his back, the northern slope his tail, 

Which bids defiance to a northern gale. 

So, here you have an elephant complete ; 

Minus his trunk, his knees, his legs and feet ; 

Now, do not tell your friends with waggish cant. 

That you have not been « shown the Elephant." 

Just east of us the Bosom Bay appears ; 

Which cove has borne this title many years. 

The reason of this name I caniiot give ; 

I will not " guess " — who cares what I believe ? 

Just north of where the Elephant appears, 

The " Sugar Loaf " its woody summit rears ; 

It humbly stands within Black Mountain's shade. 

And, tho' a "loaf," affects not Stuart's trade. 

There's nothing in a name, says Mr. Green — 

A gross mistake, as Barnum oft has seen. 

For genius, fame, and honor, I could cope 

With all the World, had I the name of Pope. 

High-sounding titles serve, the World to " bilk" — 

"Westchester" stands for genuine "swill-milk." 

From Dresden hills a mill-stream makes its way, 

And spills its water into Bosom Bay. 

Quite near the " Leap," and nearly on our west, 

You '11 see a lofty peak with em'rald crest ; 

As Davis Mountain known both far and near — 

A little farm will on its south appear ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 39 

This soil has swarm'd with snakes in all past time. 

Since man first wandered through this sterile clime. 

And I am told by men of " passing sense," 

That on this farm they have a garden fence 

Of kiln-dried rattle-snakes ! with shining scales, 

The pirkets manufactured from their tails ! 

And ad the mountain-breezes sweep along. 

Those pickets sing a wild, discordant song ; 

Tho' not unpleasant to the rustics' ears. 

And might be called the " music of the spear»k^'* 

I would this yarn in modest language couch, 

Yet, for its truthfulness I dare not vouch. 

A pleasant farm, a point of fertile land 

Lies on our left. Upon this point a ban.d 

Of French and Indians made a bold attack 

Upon the Colonists, who drove them back. 

Howling like demons round the gloomy Styx ! 

This fight took place, we 're told, in " '56." 

In " '58 " that well-appointed band. 

By Abercrombie led, here made a land ; 
And here they tarried thro' the sabbath day. 
To hear their worthy chaplain preach and pray ; 
And hence its name, as all good authors say. 

Alas! we find — and "such is human life" — 

Prayers mix'd with curses on the field of strife ; 

From savage depths to where proud Science floafp, 

Men pray to God, then cut each other's throats ! 

Thy tyrant, who is ever apt to find 

A subject to inflame the public mind, 



40 LAKE GEORGE. 

Exhorts his dupes to raise their thoughts on high, 

To " trust in God, but keep their powder dry ; " 

Concocts some scheme to lure the green ones on, 

Then heads are lost, while glorious fields are won ! 

Some leave the strife with liberty— to beg ! 

Some get a pension, some a wooden leg ; 

How many care what they are fighting for ? 

The greatest, vilest humbug known is War ! ! ! 

In " '76 " this noted point of land 

Was held by Yankee boys — a gallant band ; 

Who " thrash'd " the Tories and the Indians wild. 

With all the ease that you could whip a child ; 

And with the narrative of that sharp fray, 

I close the story of the " Sabbath Day." 

Bluff Point upon the eastern sliore appears ; 

And east of it a barren mountain rears 

His lofty spire, to veil the morning sun ; 

Spruce Mountain call' d— the spruce is nearly gone. 

From this a wall runs northward, like a bridge, 

And by the people here 't is call'd Spruce Ridge. 

The Odle Island on the eastward lies ; 

You '11 see its outline from the water rise. 

The hunters say that in each passing year, 

They 've here been lucky in pursuing deer. 

Within the gap, betv^een Black Mountain's side 

And where Tongue Mountain rises from the tide, 

A distant group of mountains meets the view, 

Whose rounded summits don the azure hue. 

The Black Spruce Mountain forms that broad, round 

And that peak eastward is the Prospect Hill, [swell. 



LAKE GEORGE. 41 

Slim Point upon the western shore is seen ; 
Its beach is lovely, and its foliage green ; 
Its level surface by its trees is hid— 
If placed erect, 't would form a pyramid ; 
You'll know it quickly, when within yoar reach, 
By the fine curve upon its either beach. 
Against yon islet, westward of our course, 
I've seen the foaming billows dash with force ; 
And hide with spray its adamantine form — 
For many thousand years 't has braved the storm; 
'T is call'd Scotch Bonnet, but you don't know why, 
Since Scotch is all that you 're allowed to spy ; 
.The Bonnet having left some time ago — 
The reason of its name you'd like to know? 
A cedar tree upon its soil once grew. 
Which in the distance seemed a bonnet blue ; 
Or, some might say, a common, low Scotch hat — 
Its sides were round, its top was nearly flat ; 
And this is why we call this isle the "Bonnet," 
Because it look'd so when the tree stood on it. 
Three miles from this, if I have measured well. 
Upon the shore you'll see a white hotel ; 
Where fish and game you'll in profusion see — 
Its guests ne'er lack for sport of social glee. 
'T is kept by Arthur, who's Achillean form 
Turns not from friend or foe, in calm or storm ! 
And should you journey to the distant sea. 
Through all the States, or to Niagara, 
A more whole-hearted, sociable frieiid 
You would not find, thro'out Columbia's land ! 



42 LAKE GEORGE 

And when yon leave him, you will ever tell, 

That that tall Arthur keeps a tall hotel 

A mill-stream dashes down the mountain-side, 

In Arthur's Bay it finds the crystal tide. 

We run from Arthur's eastward for a mile, 

And then we round the high " Waltonian Isle ; " 

Then northward we pursue our liquid way ; 

Along Cook's Isles we pass each pleasant bay : 

And soon Friend's Point upon the west is seen. 

With rocky shore, and grassy surface, green. 

Our gallant steamer, as she northward goes. 

Seems fully bound to split " Antonie's Nose!'* 

Which promontory rises full in sight ; 

'Tis, where we pass, directly on the right. 

His southern slope is wash'd by Blair's deep bay ; 

Where fishes dwell, and in the sunbeams play; 

Where " sporting " perch along the surface go, 

And black bass gambol in the " dens " below. 

His northen slope runs gently to the tide; 

And for a nose, might there seem very wide; 

But on the east — precipitous and high ! 

He lifts his summit to the bending sky. 

Around his nostrils curling billows play, ♦ 

And, tho' '* immersed," they " sprinkle '^ him with spray ; 

They dance cotillons when the brisk wind blows. 

They "swash" and "balance" to the granite Nose. 

When fearful storms, and howling tempests rise, 

And Jove's artillery booms along the skies. 

The wild tornado sweeps the hill and plain, 

And white-capp'd billows walk the angry main ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 43 

The wild waves then, that near this mountain move. 

As if to mock the deaf 'ning peals above. 

Give prompt response, while Vulcan's missiles roar, 

And forge their thunder on the iron shore. 

In Summer, Autumn, and in welcome Spring, 

A joyful face surrounds this nasal king: 

Who, tho' untaught in hypocritic wiles, 

Has gain'd our favor thro' his frowning smiles. 

His blandness leaves when Winters storms descend. 

And hurl their wrath, alike on foe and friend ; 

When mountain snow-drifts block the country road, 

And snow-birds twitter 'round the drear abode. 

For, when the Frost-King chains the lake and stream, 

And Arctic desolation reigns supreme, 

Keen are the blasts, and rude the fleecy snows. 

That hold their frolics 'round " Antonie's " Nose, 

While near his base the "Minnie" proudly glides, 

She keeps respectful distance from his sides ; 

Propell'd majestic ! by her iron team. 

And screaming loudly from her lungs- of steam. 

The startled echoes leap from cliff to cliff, 

In sharp response to each tremendous whiff; 

The tourist wonders at the voices wild. 

And claims attention of his wife and child. 

Near where the Sun is at expiring day. 

You'll see a sheet of water, called Cook's Bay ; 

And on its noi-th behold the matehless " Slide," 

Where famous Rogers sought the frozen tide. 

When 'neath the " Slide," if bless'd with common sense, 

You'll own, at once, your insignificance; 



44 LAKE GEORGE. 

And meekly bow to tHat Almighty power, 
Which sends the sunshine, and the cooling shower. 
«« To whom all kings and potentates must nod; 
" The One Supreme, and self-existent God ! 
" Who made the mountains, and the level land, 
"And holds the hills in his Almighty Hand!" 
He made the Earth, and yon bright, starry skies; 
Lets empires sink, and great republics rise ; 
They rise in pride, in pride they're sure .to fall- 
Weak Man should know that God is God of all. 
He wields as puppets, Earth's ambitious kings; 
Could sweep to Chaos all created things; 
And yet, in mercy spreads a World like this ! 
He builds an empire in the fields of bliss ; 
There may the tourist find a happy home ; 
With friends no more to part thro' time to come ! 
The tale of this bold clift", and Rogers bold, 
In many ways is to the trav'ler told ; 
But nearly all these forms are paltry lies ; 
Which all good folks* are certain to despine. 
Some say he blunder'd down the mountain's face, 
And others that he never saw the place. 
Both those accounts are very incorrect; 
Which you'll perceive, if you but once reflect. 
Now, let us have the truth, and no more cavil, 
Since all agree that Rogers once "scratched gravel; 
And cross' d the Horican o'er ice and snow, 
To clear his skirt from his pursuing foe. 
I'll now relate what Hist'ry gives as fact: 
He reach'd the "Slide," then hove his heavy pack; 



LAKE GEORGE. 45 

A sly thought then, a stratagem, we find 

Was here presented to the hero's mind ; 

His snow-shoes loose-n'd, quickly on them turn'd, 

He made them fast, then westward " slid," we've learn'd ; 

He trod with caution, as he journey'd back. 

And seem'd quite careful to make no new track. 

A distance west he found a steep ravine,* 

Which on this mountain's south is plainly seen ; 

A few j3eet bounds, and Rogers struck the lake — 

Then for his pack most likely he would make? 

He grasp' d the bundle, o'er the wave he flew ! 

And thus escape'd the fiendish Indian crew. 

His foes approach'd this mountain's northern side, 

Then hasten'd south, and reach'd the lofty "Slide;" 

And when they saw those tracks, all pointing east, 

Their hearts revengeful had a savage feast ; 

For, they believed, as well they might from this, 

That he had hasten'd to the wild abyss ! 

Then dropp'd, as if his hide was filled with lead. 

Head over heels, and then heels over head ! 

They reach'd the cliff, discover' d in a trice 

Sly Rogers, fleeing on the distant ice ! 

And tho' they'd guns amd powder, likewise ball, 

'Tis said at him they never fired at all \ 

But felt persuaded, from his sliding merit. 

That he was guided by the " Great Good Spirit ! " 

One savage said, " If he has slid this bluft^? 

His « trouserloons ' must be of tip-top stuff" ; 

Like Ajax shield, made seven-fold of leather." 

" Perhaps of English moleskin," said another ; 



46 LAKE GEORGE. 

•« I have no doubt 'twas bought of honest factors, 
And not supplied by sutlers and contractors ; — 
For slides like this, a soldier's feet and body 
Must be well shod, and not be shod with «« Shoddy." 
So on the whole, when viewins^^ the condition, 
I think it wise to save our ammunition ; 
For if we shoot, ^e cannot start the stitches, 
Nor swell the breach in those tremendous breeches ! " 
This all transpired, historians relate. 
In winter- time, last cent'ry, "''58." 
Some say that Rogers to Fort George then fled: 
That can't be true, whatever they have said : 
He fled to William Henry, I opine— 
Fort George was not complete 'till " '59." 
Brave Major Rogers left the Britsh ranks. 
And took this trip to exercise his shanks. 
We o'er the waters to the eastward glide, 
And bid farewell to this majestic "Slide: " 
The shores converge, we take a sudden bend. 
Which proves we're near our pleasant journey's end. 
The lake has dwindled to a shallow stream— 
You'll see Black Point upon our starboard beam; 
Upon our west we find the Pris'ner's Isle; 
Where Abebcrombie captives kept awhile; 
The space is small, but then he captur'd few, 
Tho' large his fleet, and strong his daring crew : 
And while the battle raged near Lake Champlain, 
Some walk'd ashore, and freedom found again. 
Now turn your eye toward south-western skies ; 
You'll see a lofty mountain- peak arise ; 



LAKE GEORGE. 47 

The highest peak in Hague's majestic chain, 

Stands nineteen hundred feet above the plain. 

A notch upon its summit meets your view ; 

Thro' which you see the distant vaulted " Blue.' 

I call this peak the Beacon — you can spy 

Its azure top from Caldwell, and from "Ti;" 

A fire upon its brow, at night, would make 

A beacon, which would light the entire lake ! 

We near Howe's Landing ; we shall soon reach " Ti," 

And Minnie's gong will sound the words — Good by ! 

Then Baldwin's " Moving Show " will you " engage ; " 

You'll all be actors on his brilliant sta,2:e ; 

From hill to hill, and o'er the level plain, 

Four pleasant miles, to beautiful Champlain ! 

In theatres, when you have got the " rocks," 

You're apt to treat your friends to " private box ; " 

But on the Movy^G Show, as you pass through, 

The " gal'ry " seat commands the finest view. 

The Manager describes each pleasing scene ; 

His voice is Marshall, and his eye is Keen(e) ; 

He's bound to shine in histrionic art, 

For Hill and Forest always " take a part." 

On finer scenes an audience never smil'd ; 

With Yankee hills and forests growing wild. 

When Abercrombie cross'd the liquid plain. 

To fight Montcalm at^"Ti," near bright Champlain, 

Among his band was Howe, a hero bold. 

Upon this plain his precious life was sold. 

" Old Put," who's valor gain'd undying fame. 

Fought side by side with Howe upon this plain ; 



48 LAKE GEORGE. 

And ere he reach'd Carillon's outer trench, 

He made sad havoc with the flying French. 

The English reached the plain beyond the " Falls," 

A half-mile westward of Carillon's walls ; 

And there, for four long, hard-fought, bloody hours. 

They braved the fury of the iron showers !' 

The scale of war was now against them turn'd ; M 

A lesson sorrowful that day they learn' d : 

Retreat ! retreat ! ! rang through the bleeding host ; 

They fled in terror ! with two thousand lost. 

With sadden'd hearts, they left the blood-dyed plain ; 

They gain'd the Horican's clear wave again ; 

They man'd the boats, they left the forest land. 

And made their way to William Henry's strand. 

In "'58," the eighth of fierce July, 

The fight " came off " upon the plains of " Tl" 

When that sad news had cross'd Atlantic's surge, 

Of Abercp.ombie's idiotic " splurge," 

Cool Amherst came, that hero to surplant, 

He show'd the Frenchmen " Barnum's Elephant ! " 

He took Fort "Ti" the next year, «'59," 

Aboilt as easy as a Turk could dine ; 

Before its walls his ample fleet appear'd, 

The French took leave — most probably were " skeer'd.' 

Near sixteen years the English held " Old Ti ; " 

Green Mountain Ajax on it fix'd his eye ; 

The great, undaunted Ethan Allen came. 

And cried: "Surrender! in the Great Jehovah's 

He took the fort, the English troops shed tears, [name ! ! ! " 

Altho' the Yankees held it but two years. 



LAKE GEORGE. 49 

Then Briton's son, the noted John Bueoyne, 

On Mount Defiance placed a batt'ry line; 

The Yankees saw the trick, and " calculated " 

That Johnny's tact was somewhat under-rated. 

St. Clair was in command at " Old Fort Ti ; " 

He scan'd Defiance with his eagle eve ; 

He said, "My boys, those hateful British chaps 

Have climb'd the hill — we'd better move our traps : " 

They then " skedaddled," 'mid great British glee — 

The English held the fort 'till " '83 ; " 

And tho' as fortress not worth eighteen pence, 

" Our folks " have held the " ruins " ever since. 

In " '56" it into being burst ; 

By Frenchmen built, and call'd Carillon first ; 

Above one hundred years 't has met the eye ; 

And now 't is call'd, familiarly, "Fort Tl" 

Here daring Ethan gain'd a world-wide fame — 

TicoNDEROGA is its proper name. 

Two noted cascades west of ''Ti's " old walls — 

One call'd the Upper, one the Lower Falls — 

Have stamped their title on this pleasant town, 

As well as on this forU'ess of renown ; 

The name was given from their forest voice : 

Call'd " Sounding Waters " by the Iroquois. 

They're on the stream that drains the fam'd Lake GeoT ge, 

And drives the mill, the lathe, the shop, the forge. 

A pleasant ville is found at either fall ; 

One has an inn, the other none at all. 

Beneath " Ti " Fort a tine hotel is seen ; 

By locusts shaded, on a lovely green : 



50 LAKE GEORGE. 

There you can pass most pleasantly your time, 
Till bell shall call his guests to dine. 

When you have dined, you'll take a pleasant stroll 
To yonder ruins, on the rising knoll ; 
To see the spot where once the iron hail 
Dealt death and carnage, and the dying wail 
Was mingled with the war-cry on the plain, 
And sadly echo'd o'er the blue Champlain. 
You'll see Defiance in the southwest rise, 
xVnd Independence in south-eastern skies ; 
These mountain peaks are noted near and far. 
For their connection with our country's war. 
These ruin'd walls, o'er which the ivy (t-eeps. 
Yon battle-ground, where many a soldier sleeps, 
Yon rocky summits, frowning on the sky, 
Tho' each seems pleasant to the tourist's eye, 
They seem to tell us of the hopes, the fears. 
The groans, the sorrows, and the widow's tears, 
Which have been all forgotten for a hundred years ! 
Here Mars in fury drove his iron car ; 
And man, the '' Human Angel," drove the war — 
Where are the hosts that battled on " Old Ti ? " 
They've " grounded arms," and " laid their armor by." 
It thus will be with' all the hosts behind — 
I feel the truth impressed upon my mind. 
That we shall meet on Heaven's Eternal shore. 
When Life's short battle with the world is o'er ; 
Therefore, our thoughts should "turn to Virtue^s side,' 
And Hope's- bright beacon all our conduct guide ! 



LAKE GEORGE. 61 

Kind, patient reader, you have lodged with Gale, 
And on the " Minnie " had a pleasant sail ; 
You've seen the Horican's bright sparkling flood, 
The lofty mountains, and the green wikl-wood ; 
You've read my book— you've spent your precious time — 
This rhyming guide, but not the guide to rhyme, 
You've contemplated all of which I tell. 
Accept my thanks, dear tourist, and farewell ! 



CONTENTS 



Page. 

As You Were Island 31 

Arthur's ELotel 41 

"Antonie's" Nose 42 

Abercrombie's Kmbarkation 14 

Abercroinbie's Defeat 47 

Battle of Lake George i'> 

Bioody Pond 7 

BizzeeBay, v» 19 

Boon Bay... 24 

Basin Bay 26 

Blaek Mountain 32 

Bosom Bay 38 

Bluff Point 40 

Black Point 46 

Beacon Mountain 46 

Caldwell 8 

Crandall's Brook 15 

Cramer's Farm 17 

Cannon Point 19 

CronkMte's Hotel 22 

Cat Mountain 28 

Cook's Island? 42 

Dunham's Bay 17 

Diamond Island IS 

Diamond Point 20 

Deer Pasture 24 

Diana's Throne 25 

Dome Island 27 

Dollar Island 32 

Deer's Leap 36 

Davis Mountain 38 

East Creek .11 

Eagle Mountain 31 

Erebus Mountain 32 

Elephant's Back 37 

Fort Gage 8 

Fort William Henry Hotel 8 

Fort William Henry 9 

French Mountain 10 

Finch Mountain 23 



Page. 

Fen ton's Point 26 

Fourt' en Mile Island 30 

Flea Island 30 

French Point 32 

Friends' Point 42 

Forf'Ti." 49 

Grassy Point 22 

Grove Point 25 

Green Island 28 

Harrisena 17 

Harris Bay 22 

Harris Brook 22 

Hoxie's Middle-Ground 25 

Half- Way Island 33 

Hague Mountain 33 

Harbor Islands 34 

Howe's Landing 47 

Indian Brook. .\ 28 

Judge Edmonds' Farm 22 

Lake House 13 

Long Island 22 

Long Point 22 

Lake George Mountains 23 

Mansfield Mountain .25 

Mohican House 27 

Mount Defiance 50 

Mount Independance 50 

Noi^th Bay 26 

Nopit Mountain 28 

Northwest Bay Creek 28 

Northwest Bay 29 

O'Conor's House 17 

Old Dick's Islands 21 

One-Tree Island 24 

Odle Island 40 

Prospect Hill, view from 11 

Plum Point 17 

Pilot Mountain 23 

Phelps' Brook 24 

Picnic Island ..26 



54 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Pinnacle Mountain 2i-. 

Pole Hill , 2^ 

Prisoner's Island .4( 

Reed's Rock 20 

Reynolds' Po'nt 2( 

Raftlpsnnke Fence 39 

^Rogers' Slide 43 

'Still Bay and Point 18 

Sisters 21 

Shelving Rock Brook 30 

Silver Mine 30 

Shelving Rock 30 

Sanford's Island 28 

Sweet's Mountain 31 

Sugar Loaf Mountain 38 

Sabbath-day Point 39 



Page. 

Spruce Mountain 40 

Slim Point. 41 

Scotch Bonnet 41 

Tea Island lo 

Tattle's House..., 1(5 

Three Brothers 2(5 

Tongue Mountain 21) 

Turtle Island 30 

"Ti" Creek ' 49 

U.S. Hotel 13 

Vicar's Island 34 

Williams' Monument 6 

West Creek 11 

Wright's Brook 26 

Watch Island 34 

Waltonian Island 42 



^^ 



0BmS^ 



f lot 8 1863 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

016 256 123 6 # 



